Walking Along the Edge
by cane-jian
Summary: The story of Elder Scrolls is one some are intimately familiar with. One dear to the hearts of many. But, while I may love the series, I didn't want to WAKE UP IN IT! Now, I have to deal with a boat load of people's problems, my own religious dilemmas, and, worst of all, my readers deciding my fate!(Not that I know that last one) SI/ Self Insert. I do not own TES. Poll on profile.
1. Ch 1: Have I been Rob'ed?

**AN: 12:58 AM, Jan 10th, 2019. . . . Over the holidays, my mother bought me a computer compatible X-box controller. I response, I finally got started on that copy of skyrim special edition I bought on steam ages ago. I was promptly re-addicted to the game, and have finally caved after two weeks of not getting any work done on my other projects. Now lets see if I can get _this_ done in a timely manner.**

 **Oh yes, something for american readers, I am Canadian, and we use a slightly different spelling system, for instance fiew is few and so on, so if you see me repeatedly make a spelling error, then it may be that.**

* * *

 **POV: "Russet"**

Trees. Trees. And more trees. Trees in all directions. Trees as far as the eye could see. And none of them were native to my home area. Brilliant.

Now, you'd think that after waking up in a forest, in a strange area, with a different pair of clothes than the last one you remember wearing(and in fact are not a kind that you own in the first place), you'd panic.

Not me though. No. Me? I get an interesting combination of stressed, annoyed, and depressed. Said combination is currently sitting at the back of my mind as I try to take stock of my situation.

Now to cycle through my who whats.

Who is responsible? No flipping idea.

What has happened. I am in a place I don't recognize.

Where am I? I just said I don't know.

Why has it happened? Hell if I know.

How has it happened? That's what I want to know.

Unfortunately, I don't have many answers. In fact, going back to four, why did I bother doing that in the first place?

Shaking my head, I moved on to taking stock of my surroundings. First of all, I hadn't woken up just laying on the ground. Rather, I was in a fur sleeping bag . . . bed roll . . . you get the basic idea. No idea what kind of fur though, just that's its brown and soft.

The next observation, was that I had a rather good sized bag with me, roughly twice the size of my backpack back home. It was made of brown leather, with buttons holding the pockets closed, and was coated with some waxy material, most likely for waterproofing. There was a short(? Roughly 2.5 feet hand and a half sword, roughly two pounds) sword, strapped to the side, with a basic wood and copper scabbard with no decoration whatsoever. The scabbard had also been waxed.

On the other side of the travelling bag, a lantern was strapped. Well, don't need that right now, its just morning . . . I think. Yes, the sun's higher than when I last looked, so morning.

Inside of one pocket, I found two sets of the same cloth pants and . . . tunic? I was wearing, only in different colours, one set cream, the other being a nice deep black (assuming you can even call black deep). Also, what appeared to be a comb made of bone. I took that and ran it through my hair to test it, and after confirming it worked, put that in my pants pocket.

Inside another, was a full water skin(I swear a full gallon), a pot, a pan, a set of knifes in leather sheathes, a pair of rocks I assume are for starting a fire. Also, a smooth, cut stone I believe to be for sharpening the knives(and sword in necessary).

Checking a third, I found some bundles wrapped in heavy-duty paper. Food, I discover after checking. Dried meat and vegetables. Not hungry now though.

Looking into yet another section, I found . . . books?Yes, books, several, with odd, familiar symbols on the surface. Where had I seen these before? I considered opening one, but decided to make sure I was in a safe environment first.

Drawing the sword, I ran it lightly along the bark of one of the trees, and confirmed that it was sharp. I considered taking a swing at a tree to see just how sharp, then realized that their was a chance of getting sap all over the blade, and just put it away, glad I hadn't damaged my only real weapon(the kitchen knives don't count, to thin) ten minutes into . . . whatever was going on.

I looked around my general area for another few minutes, before deciding that I should start moving. After all, the chances of anyone searching for me are . . . well, minuscule, seeing as I'm so far away from home the weather is completely different, that or I have amnesia, but considering how I remember last night rather well, I rather doubt that.

So, I took a small branch, threw it straight up, and began to head in the direction it landed. I mean, I have no idea where I am, so any direction has a chance. Throwing the bag over my shoulder in sutch a way that the sword was easy to reach and draw, I set out.

Now, to find a road . . .

* * *

 **POV: Russet**

OK, so, it is now almost noon, only a little bit longer before I can eat without feeling I'm wasting supplies. As of now, I am starving.

I have yet to find a road, and I'm wondering just were the hell I am. The few animals I have seen thus far are just the generic kind. You know, birds and small rodents like squirrels. You know, the kinds of animals you could find in any temperate forest in _**the whole bloody hemisphere!**_ Literally, from america to japan, and I don't know birds well enough to say anything but "no robins of chickadees

I sighed, scratching the back of my head, getting a small branch untangled from my admittedly ridiculous hair. As my hand(right hand) came away, however, It brushed against my ear and . . .

"I have an earring?!" I snapped out loud. Admittedly I wasn't that surprised, but I had been looking for an excuse to talk out loud for a while. This was a good excuse.

Clutching the piece of metal piercing my ear for a moment, I began to fiddle with it, until I managed to remove it, as it was a simple hook earning. As soon as the piece of metal left the new gap in my earlobe, however, my vision blurred.

'My glasses!' I thought, surprises. I need glasses to see do to a case of myopia, and thus need glasses to see anything that's not within three feet of me. Now it's not that big a deal, I'm actually so comfortable with glasses that if I close my eye's I honestly can't tell if I'm wearing them or not. Thus, I didn't notice that I, was not, in fact wearing them.

Slowly putting the hook back in my ear, I watched my vision clear, then pulled it out again and watched it blur. In, out. In out. I repeated the process a half dozen times, and the result was the same each time. Pulling it out one last time, I brought the metal ornament to about a half foot from my face.

It was, a basic diamond shaped piece of black metal on a hook to loop through the ear. No other decoration, just . . . is it glowing? Is this some sort of magic earring or something?

I frowned. Have I been ROB'ed? Am I even on earth? Where am I?

Now feeling very stressed, I sat down and pulled out one of the pieces of dried meat that were in the leather bag, chewing on it viciously as I thought(not bad, its not my uncles venison jerky, but still . . . ).

Ok, so I wake up in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of stuff and no idea where I got there, and my glasses have been replaced with a magic earring. I've been ROB'ed. Most likely. Best not to make any assumptions. For I know I've been forced into a ridiculously overdone VR . . . I hope that I'm not sword art online . . . no, wait, that's no worse than being ROB'ed with a chance to go home, never mind.

I sighed and leaned back against a tree. I looked into the bag for the only source of information I have. The books.

Pulling one out, I looked it over again. It was a green/yellow book, with an image of a bird or dragon on the front. I can't tell which.

Again I felt deja vu, like I had seen the book before. Opening the book, I looked over the first page.

"A comprehensive guide to healing for beginning mages" I spoke out loud. Ok, magic confirmed. Wait, that picture on the front, that was the restoration school symbol from skyrim, wasn't it? I hope not, fun game to play, but I don't want to be _in_ it. The whole universe is messed up, and if you check the lore, a lot of the top tears are actually strong enough to devastate whole countries single highhandedly. And then there are the deities.

Overcome with the sudden urge to pray, I recited the lords prayed and asked for luck and safety, before getting to my feet and continuing on my way. I can check the books over when I'm not in danger of being mauled by a wolf. Or, if I am in the elder scrolls, a saber cat. Or a cliff racer. Or a troll. Or a mud crab. Or . . . well, you get the point . . . was that howling?!

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 **AN: 4:18 AM, Jan 14th, 2019. 'Checks clock' Ok, this is to late . . . well, not really, I only got up at noon, so this is the 16 hour point, but that's not important.**

 **So, I felt I could have done much more on this chapter, but, I had an idea about 600 words in. You see, I have a lot of good ideas. But, a lot of the ideas rely on the insert taking place at different time periods, and don't make sense otherwise. So, I am going to place a pole on my profile. So, you guys will be aloud to decide what year he appears in.**

 **A. 4E 198. Note to self, join College of Winterhold ASAP.**

 **B. 4E 170. Note to self, help in great war and keep Ulfric from becoming such a racist jerk.**

 **C. 4E 65. Note to self, find way to extend lifespan, and smuggle mongrel elves out of Thalmor(AKA pure-blood A******) territory.**

 **D. 3E 425: Not to self, Find way to extend lifespan, maybe help the Nerevarine, and PREPARE FOR THE FREAKING DAEDRA!**

 **So, which one sounds best to you guys? Though, note. If I don't get a tie, or no votes, the I will default to option C. As it's (By a slight margin) my favourite, even if its a tie and C isn't one of the tied votes. See you in a few days!**

 **(PS. I am allowing multiple selection on the votes, but only 2)**


	2. Ch 2: A Bearly Tolerable Situation

**AN: 12:55 AM, Jan 15th, 2019. Ok Cane-Jian, enough PLAYING Skyrim, now star WRITING about it! Or the elder scrolls in general . . . you get what I mean!**

* * *

 **POV: "Russet"**

I Trudged forward, the ground made uneven from the large number of roots in the area around me, making it a hassle just to walk. Worse, the constant walking over the past few days has given me a . . . stitch? I think that's the word. All I know is that one spot on my ribs hurts every time I take a step, like it's being pulled on.

It's been three days since I woke up here. In those three days, I have been attacked by not one, not two, _four_ wolves. Luckily, the only time I had to deal with more than one at a time was, of course, the first time, when I was lucky that I didn't get mauled. To make a long story short, I had taken out a spare shirt when I herd the wolves coming, and wrapped it around my left arm before drawing the sword.

When the first wolf lunged at my throat, I had managed to get it to bite on to my left arm, using the shirt as cushioning(I still got bruises) and stabbed it in the stomach while it's hind legs were in the air. Then the next on tackled me and it was a blur of me keeping its face away from mine with one hand and trying to hit it with the other, ending with the wolf dead and me having more scratches then the last time I whipped out while biking.

The next two wolf attack had, of course, ended about the same way that the first one had(without the second wolf to throw me off), and the third one . . . well, I got tackled when I was taking a drink, and I lost 2 thirds of my remaining water. Luckily, the dumb animal was thrown of it's feet itself I was back to my feet first. I was just thankful that I hadn't run into any larger groups . . . or a bear, thank God.

I rapped my fist against a nearby tree three times and said. "Knock on wood." before continuing.

I glanced up at the sun. It was about mid day. I sighed and sat down against a tree, pulling another stick of dried meat from my pack. I was trying to eat them as slowly as possible, but was still half way through them at this point.

How much farther do I have to go to find a road? This is getting crazy!

Assuming that I'm walking at an average of a half meter per second(actually . . . all things considered that may be a high ball, what with the roots, the hills, ect . . .) I have walked roughly fifty kilometres over the past few days. How much farther do I have to go?

Seriously! I've been attacked, spend half my time starving so as to preserve supplies, nearly burned myself three times tending to my fires at night, which took three hours to light, by the way! I barely got any sleep, have been out of water since noon yesterday, and haven't had human contact in way to long! When the _flipping hell am I going to find some sign of civilization!?_

I sighed, slumped to the ground, offered a quick prayer, ate, and began the age old process of "counting your blessings".

I'm alive. I _do_ still have food. I have a bunch of equipment instead of being stranded with nothing. The temperature is pretty nice, and the forest's are absolutely _beautiful_. I still have my faith and . . . oh yes.

I formed a small bolt of lightning between my pointer and index finger.

. . . I've learned magic. Now if only I could stop causing an explosion every time I use fire. I'd like to be able to actually light a camp-fire with pyromancy without setting half the forest on fire. Thank God I decided to learn frost first . . .

* * *

 **POV: "Russet"**

Thank God! A road! At last! Sure, it's only dirt road, but those are wagon tracks! And, since no grass is growing, it's obviously well used! . . . or toxic, but that's the WCS(Worst Case Scenario).

Now, should I go left, right, or camp out on the road until someone comes by to ask for directions? You know, what? I think I'll risk option 3. If I take the wrong direction I could end up wandering for days, and I've already gone a day and a half without water. Also, gotten three cramps in that time. Forgot to mention that in my rant earlier.

So, I found a comfortable spot on the ground, leaned back, and in a bide to ignore the desert currently taking up residence in my mouth, I opened up the spell book on restoration: healing.

Over the past few days, I had spent at least two hours a day trying to get my head around the spell books, with limited success. Overall, I could now use basic sparks and frost spells, but for some reason flames wasn't working, resulting in an explosion every time I use it. Luckily I hadn't gotten any burns worth mentioning, but I had set some trees on fire. Luckily, I had learned frost first, so I had managed to put it out, though I was left feeling a odd sense of mental exhaustion afterwards, like the willpower had flown right out of me.

From what I understand, I either have a higher magicka pool then you start out with in game, or the actual mechanics of the spells are different, since I kept the spell going for over thirty seconds nonstop . . . or I'm placing to much stock in the game and over-reading it. Really, I should probably stop doing that, it will get me in trouble. I mean, according to lore the gauldur amulet it so powerful that it could make its wielder a nigh unstoppable force, but in game it only increases you stats 30%. assuming you level 1. so yeah, stop trusting the stats.

On the other hand, if the lore's to be believed . . . no, if what I've seen is to be believed, then some of the mages in the elder scrolls world are strong enough to _create their own worlds_ . . . with a little divine help, but that doesn't change the end result, and that is scary . . . meaning, I should probably get back to reading.

Now, I've only been studying magic for about five hours altogether, but I've made some good progress if I say so myself. The spell I'm best with at the moment is sparks, followed by magelight, and then frost. I've already explained my . . . issue with flames. Now restorations giving me a bit of trouble, since I'm not willing to injure myself just to test my healing ability.

Sure, I healed the minor burns from the flames incident, and the scrapes from when I fell down a slope that came out of nowhere, but I fell like I've been brute forcing it. So, I've been re-reading the spell book(it only takes about half an hour to read the whole thing, small pages, big writing).

I'm currently watching for parallels between elder scrolls and real world biology. Thus far I've actually not found any differences. On the other hand, this is just the beginners guide, basically you just speed up cell division by bombarding them with "Life energy". Fun fact, apparently you can heal someone to death by forcing their body to use to many resources to quickly. The more you know.

As I reached the middle of the book, describing what I believe we earthlings call stem cells, I heard a sound that, quite frankly, nearly stopped my heart. One I was intimately familiar with from the times I got mauled in Skyrim. A bear. In light of this, I grabbed the bag, leaped to my feet . . . and promptly collapsed as I got another cramp in my leg. If only restoration could fix _that_.

Quickly pulling myself to my feet through the pain, I hobbled over to a nearby tree and began pulling myself up. Unfortunately, the tree was an evergreen with some rather sturdy needles, resulting in me getting some future practice for restoration.

I only stopped when I reached thirty feet up the tree, and only then to look down. No sign of the bear, but I can still hear it grunting down their. And only then did the "charlie horse" go away. Murphy's law.

I sighed. Great, now what . . . guess I'll try to find a more comfortable position.

* * *

 **POV: "Russet"**

Well, it's been a few hours, and I'm officially treed by the bear. As in it's walking back and forth at the bottom of the tree. Good thing the trees branches and relatively thin trunk mean all of the ursine's attempts to come up after me have ended in failure. Oh yes, it is now dark.

And to cap it all off, I'm bored. I can't afford trying to sleep, since I might fall, so I can't do that. The moons rather bright, but the thick branched above me result in enough light being filtered that I can't read another spell book(I still haven't read oak-flesh or conjure familiar), and I can't light the lantern with the flint. So, I try singing. Of course, I just go off singing the first thing that comes to mind that I _can_ sing.

 _All around me are familiar faces,_

 _worn out places, worn out faces,_

 _bright and early for the daily races,_

 _going nowhere, going nowhere._

 _Their tears are filling up their glasses,_

 _no expression, no expression,_

 _hide my head I want to drown my sorrow,_

 _no tomorrow, no tomorrow._

 _And I find it kind of funny,_

 _I find it kind of sad,_

 _the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had,_

 _I find it hard to tell you,_

 _I find it had to take,_

 _when people run in circles its a very very,_

 _mad world, . . . mad world._

Hey, I never said It was a happy song. Mad world is one of the few songs I can sing without having to push my voice to the edge of it's comfort zone. Now if only I could remember more lines . . . maybe I should try "Oh Holy Night" that one I'm good at.

As I considered what song to sing next, the bear started stirring itself into, spinning around and snarling. What, did my singing get to it? As I asked myself that, I herd a zip, and a thumping sound. A second later, the bears snarling increases in rapidity, before the animal took off charging in off in a seemingly random direction. Another zip, and thump, and the bear collapsed mid stride and came skidding to a stop.

After a few seconds, I hear a voice. "Hey! You ok up there?" the voice, male with a slight accent I can't place, calls.

I perk up, but don't try to climb down. "Yeah, I'm fine, unless you count sore muscles. I got up here before the dumb thing realized I was there."

"Thank the divines for that!" the figure said as he walked out of the shadows of the bushed about, say, a hundred fifty feet away. From what I could see, yeah, he was an elf. What kind I couldn't tell. Should I climb down the tree? He doesn't look like a bandit in his well maintained green tunic and leather trousers, but you never know . . . well, if he was he could just shoot me and climb the tree anyway.

Climbing down the tree with some difficulty do to my leg still being stiff from the cramp, I jumped the last few feet . . . and immediately regret it as the crap came back. I fell to the ground growling in pain.

"Hey, you ok!?" The elf runs over concerned.

"I haven't had any water in two days, so I've got cramps." I reply, still rolling on the ground. In response the elf quickly pulls out a full water skin and hands it to me. In response, I guzzle it back. After finishing, I accept his hand up and return the empty skin to him as the pain in my legs rapidly begins to fade. "Thanks, my throat still feels like a desert, but at least I'm . . . I once read that it's a bad idea to drink water to fast when your dehydrated." I face palm. "Hope I didn't damage something."

The elf laughs a little, the motion shaking his whole body, making me notice he's a full head shorter than me. "Well, if you do end up hurting something, at least it's better than dying of dehydration while a bears treed you."

"True that." I groan. "Hey, are their any towns nearby? I'm so lost that it isn't even funny, and I've had to eat accept dried meat and nuts . . . come to think of it, where am I even." I ask, my face taking on an increasingly more exhausted expression as I neared the end of the sentence.

"Sure, I'll take you back to town as soon as I skin this bear. Might as well not let all of it go to waste right?" he asks cheerfully, taking out a knife.

"Sure." I respond, relieved.

I sit back as the elf gets to it, massaging my still sore calves as I watch with mild interest. My uncle was a hunter(when he wasn't a car repairman) and I had seen a couple of strung up skinned deer, but never a bear.

"It's a comfy little village." apparently he likes to talk while he works. "Names Hans Mill. Only about three dozen people, but that just means everyone know everyone. I've spent many a night just chattering away with my friends in Gretta the Grey's inn . . . my names Denniel, by the way." he offers me his hand, the realizing that he's gotten . . . bear . . . on it, he seems to think better.

 _'Hans Mill? Gretta the Greys? Just need a witch and we'd have ourselves a fairy tail.'_ I think, before realizing I should probably introduce myself. _'Should I use my real name or an aliase . . . hell will it, I'll just go with my SI alias.'_ "Call me Russet . . . or rusty, for short." I grab his had . . . then realize I just got . . . bear . . . on me.

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 **AN: 2:53 Am, Friday, Jan 18th, 2019. Ok, this chapter is done. I've gotten three reviews, four favs, eleven follows and three votes on the poll thus far. Hope you liked the chapter, even if it is more or less filler/explanations.**

 **Remember to vote on what year my SI starts in! I can't really get to plot moving until I know, so I'll try to draw the "Adjusting to Tamriel" arc out another chapter to three, so try and give me a reasonable number of votes!**


	3. A Rumor Mill Overview

**AN: In celebration of beating Miraak, I am starting early! . . . Ok, that's a lie, I just don't have anything else interesting to do. Maybe I should get some mods . . . do you have to pay for thoes?**

* * *

 **POV: Third person**

Hans mill was a small town, with only a few people. The town had been built, unsurprisingly, around Hans Wood-breach's saw-mill, were the they cut logs and sent them down the deep, slow moving river to sell in other parts of the province.

The towns other major source of income would be the orchards owned by Johan Applebee, which made apple-cider mead, that was both sold at the local Inn, and traded with the caravans passing through town.

Do to the frequency of animal attacks, and the threat of bandits, their was always someone awake at the inn, often multiple people, in order to ring a large bell to wake up the towns people in the event of a large scale attack. Considering that most of the people who spent their night awake at the inn ended up drunk, however, made this defence questionable at best.

Tonight was average in that sense, roughly five people crowding around the inn, the owners assistant manning the bar to keep the people happy, the bard singing the favourite songs, and everyone taking turns sitting in the loft at the top of the building keeping watch. It was this person who gave the first sign that something different was going to happen.

"Hey, Denniel's back early, and he had someone with 'im!" the call came down. Now, in this town, when the people get drunk, they get talkative, so soon all the men were arguing about who or what the elf could have found on his annual hunting trip, with ideas ranging from another hunter to a Deadra worshipper, until the sound of someone climbing the steps shut them up.

When the wood elf hunter opened the door, he found everyone in the bar staring at the door unblinkingly. He took on an unimpressed look, rolled his eyes, and said over his shoulder, "come on, beds are this way." before entering.

Following in the elf, was a half asleep looking, well, they assumed he was a breton, but he had a few nordish traits. He staggered/limped inside, favouring one leg, and headed strait for the inn keeper. "how much for a room?" he asked, not giving his elvish guide a chance to speak. The bar keeper told him the price was ten septims, and the man began to fish around in his bag for a few moments Eventually he pulled out a bag that, if experience was anything to go on, contained about sixty coins.

The man bought a room, and disappeared for the night with only a quick "Thanks" to Denniel.

Walking up to the elf, the first man demanded to know who that was.

"His name was Russet, found the pore guy treed by a bear. Seems he had been up there for a few hours, and was lost for days before that. Didn't get much more than that." the elf responded, before ordering a spiced apple mead, leaving the men to their gossip.

The next time the visitor appeared it was almost noon(understandable as it being well passed midnight when he got their). The first thing he did was order food, just a roasted chicken leg, which he proceed to use an excessive amount of salt on, before leaving to was his hands in the river.

The young man soon became a topic of gossip around the small town, do to a series of quirks and his seemingly endless well of information. The first thing that became a topic of discussion was how, once every two days he would boil a large vat of water on the inn's fire before filling his water-skin with that and using that water for the next few days, refusing to drink anything else.(on a side note, he took up a job cutting peoples fire wood for five gold an hour, making thirty septims a day, just enough to live on)

Another odd habit was how he often ran a clean rag over his teeth, despite the fact that is seemed to cause him a great deal of discomfort.

When he was finally confronted over his strange habits, he had proceeded to turn it into a town-wide trend with his explanation.

"Back home, about a hundred fifty years back, a rather smart man found that you can make something look bigger by looking at it through a specially shaped piece of glass. Something about bending light as it passes through. By layering a bunch of those glass "lenses" he saw things much to small to be seen normally. Do you know what he found?"

"No, what did he find."

"Animals. Little animals, much to small to see. _Everywhere_. In the water, on your skin . . . _in your body_. You know that fuzzy layer you get over your teeth? That's millions of little animals trying to _eat_ them. When you get sick? Another kind had gotten inside your body and is eating you from the inside out. Yes, I know that the chance of me getting sick from river water is low, but I'm still not taking any risks."

The idea of little animals in your mouth and body eating you was apparently enough to make the rest of the town accept his habits, at least for the time. Meanwhile, this event also convinced the locals that he was indeed a breton from high rock, "since bretons were mages and making a bunch of weird pieces of glass, just to see small things seemed the kind of thing a mage would do."

Another odd trait was his refusal to drink any alcoholic beverages. When asked about this one, he had claimed his father was always drinking, and that he had once promised his mother that 'I won't do that". While odd, this didn't go farther than getting him called a milk drinker by some of the town guards. Russet retaliated by always asking them why they were wearing chamber pots.

The third thing to become a topic of discussion was religion. While no one in the small town was overly religious, some of the people did notice that the young man would ocasionally pray, and the inn keeper claimed that the few times he had overheard breton? pray before bed, he never named who he was praying to, simply refering to them as "God".

Though no one confronted him over this, he did come out of his room one night when the people were muttering the possibility's to state that no, he was not a deadra worshipper, and would probably punch anyone who claimed he was to his face. As Russet was not the most physically imposing individual, it was only a day later when a fight loving young man tested this . . . and received a full force blow to the throat, keeping him from speaking for several days.

This became a matter of discussion as well, as the bruising on the nords throat was oddly shaped, though no one could figure an answer for this one other than an odd angle of the strike.

The final thing that was gossiped over, was his practice of magic. It was apparent that he was new to the arcane arts, and had only began some time after he started travelling. This, combined with his rather good quality equipment, knowledge base and his pore physical state, resulted in rumours that he was in fact a nobel who had run away from home with dreams of adventure.

That leads us to today.

* * *

 **POV: Russet**

 _'Oh come on!'_ I snarl mentally as the flames spell comes out as a stream of spheres of flame, sputtering into the water of the river were I was practicing(because what kind of idiot practises flames anywhere else when you don't have stone buildings). My main problem with the fire spell is that I seem to be igniting all the "fuel" in it at once, meaning all the flame that would normally stream out in a straight line ignites way to early.

Which is annoying, since I got the distinct impress that flames was the one fire spell that shouldn't have that problem, and I was making some mistake in the first few steps.

With a sigh, I moved on to the next spell, telekinesis. Now, in skyrim, this spell had a ridiculous mana cost, but here, the cost was determined by A. the weight of the object B. the distance, and C. How you want to move it, that last one only being relevant because of gravity's effects making it slightly more costly to move against it.

My own usage of telekinesis is . . . well, scary. Why? Because I can throw a ten pound stone as fast as an arrow. Yeah. That could take someone's head off. Also means that all those cases of corpses being sent flying by blows from ice spike or firebolt were actually realistic considering the probable speeds and weight behind the hits. The realistic part was that living people not being sent flying by every hit.

Casting that thought out, I lifted up a rough sphere of water, trying to keep any of it from dripping. Easier said than done. The whole thing was like trying to keep water trapped between two pressed together bowls without loosing any. The whole thing was draining both magically and mentally. After about thirty seconds, I ran out of magicka, and I went back to waiting for my energy to return.

I'll admit, the periods were I wait for my mana to return to full is the only reason I can stand this, what with how it strains the mind. I'd probably get a headache if I didn't have those breaks.

Over the past few weeks, I have made notable progress with my spells, though I will admit that I am best with sparks, which is, if you dumb it down, simply the transfer of neagtive energy from one point to another made by constructing said energy a pathway. There's more to it than that, but said explanation is sufficient.

Frost meanwhile, aggravates me on a different level than flames. Mainly, were is all the ice coming from? From past research, I know that air can be up to 4 percent water vapor, but air is only about a tenth a pound by square foot, so there could be enough water in the air to form the several pounds of spiky frost I can cover the ground with in a moments notice, right?

I regret not researching that further while back on earth. But, since I seemed to get frost by instinct, I have none of the insight someone without the instinct would need to perform the spell, and the spell book in annoyingly vague.

The illusion spells and conjuration spells I have had little luck with, the illusion because I have nothing to practice on besides chickens and cows, who are to docile to tell if calm is working or not, and the conjuration, because I find it largely confusing how the whole process is supposed to work. Am I summoning the from somewhere else, or making the conjureie(is that even a word) from scratch?

The alteration spells, I've made some progress with, but I still can't tell if I'm supposed to be making a layer over my skin, or actually altering my skin in some way. I sigh, before deciding to just move on to the thing that I _really_ want to get the hang of.

 _'Fade. To become less than one was, while remaining the same in essence. Is it to loose something? To simply move part of yourself to another place? What does it truly mean to "fade"?'_ "Feim!"

I have been trying to understand the true meaning of the words in an attempt to use Shouts, because, lets face it, shouts can be far simpler than magic when used properly. Thus, I've been meditating on the few words I remember, from the few shouts I have memorized, including Become Ethereal. I have some theories about that on that could prove . . . useful, if I'm right.

For the meantime though, I haven't made any progress, and I'm just yelling for no reason whenever I get a certain feeling in my mind. No success yet though.

I pulled myself to my feet. The sun was going down, and even here in Falkrieth hold, the temperature drops uncomfortably low after dark. Best to go back to the inn for the day.

Denniel's convinced me to sing tonight, and I should probably prepare. But I'm not going to try playing that bloody lute! The extra two strings compared to what I'm used to keeps throwing my off . . .

* * *

 **AN: 12:53 Am, Jan 21st, 2019. Ok, I feel I could have made this chapter longer, but couldn't think of how, so were stuck with this.**

 **Also, please remember to vote on the pole if you have a preference. Seriously, I want an honest opinion on this! I mean, one option is honestly the clear winner by this point, but who knows, we may get a last second turnabout! Ok, time to start the next chapter . . .**


	4. Training, Fighting, and a Bandit Raid

**AN: 12:58 AM, Jan 21st, 2019: I said I was starting the next one, didn't I?**

* * *

 **POV: Russet**

'Whoa!' I inhale sharply as I sidestep a powerful swing from a guard wielding a wooden sword. The guard in question, a rather nice man named Avin Greydusk, had offered to help me train one day about a week ago when he noticed me battering a training dummy with a long stick. Since then, he's been helping me "train". Read, trying to hit my while I try to hit him. Thus far, I haven't had much success. But hey, I have another four days before he goes back to Falkrieth, so I still have a chance.

The guard took another swing at me, forcing me to block to blow with the shaft of my makeshift wooden spear, anfling it to let the wooden weapon slide down the shaft. I took advantage of the guards brief moment off guard to change positions and take a stab at his head. In response, he shifted just enough to cause it to glance off his helmet in such a way that even if the "spear" had a sharpened head it would cause no real damage to anything but the paint. Say what you want about the chamber-pot helmets, they offered good protection.

The guard stepped forward suddenly, preventing me from taking swipe with the bladed end of the spear, and forcing me to step back as he advanced. The wisest decision at this moment would be to role, but I lack the agility to do that, and would probably just hurt myself if I tried.

Avin thrust his wooden sword at my chest, causing me to flinch back and suck in my stomach. I quickly put up my spear in a two handed block, catching an overhead followup swing with to part between my hands. The blow from the much stronger nord rattled my arms and nearly made of drop the model spear from the sudden shock to my hands.

I tried to take a further step back, but Avin advanced a final time and struck me with a powerful blow to the chest, knocking me of my feet. As I lay on the ground, huffing and puffing, partly from the workout, partly from the ridiculously hot gambeson suit I was wearing. The cloth armour also doubled as a winter coat, making it murder on a hot day like this.

"Come on, get up." the dev . . . Avin told me, holding out his hand, which I reluctantly took. The nord hauled me to my feet with a casual shift of one arm. No surprises their, he can swing an iron warhammer no problem. Just means I need to work more.

I stood hunched over, hands on my knees for a moment, before straightening up and undoing a few buttons on the cloth armour. I could swear that some steam wafted out. _'At least he's not making we wear the hood up.'_

Re-doing the buttons, I leaned down and picked up my spear, taking a basic stance, both hands on the spear, and the blade angled towards the ground. Avin stood across from me, both hands on the handle of his sword, held in a basic guard across his chest.

I lunged, he parried, I slashed at his neck, he stepped back, he stepped forward to slash, I stabbed at his stomach forcing him to back up. I took a swipe at his legs, putting my full weight behind it, he jumped, forcing me to spin with my momentum and throwing me off ballance. When I recovered, I had a sword pressed to my neck. "darn it."

Avin chuckled lightly, leaning his sword on his shoulder. "Mabey you should go back to fighting with nothing but a shield, you actually managed to beat me that way."

"yeah, but actual shields way more than those puny wooden things. I wouldn't be able to manure as well."

"Ever heard of a light shield?"

"Hate the design on those, not pointed edges, and I can't afford a custom one. Best to wait until I have a real one to start really practising with one. I'm just sticking to training for weapons I actually _have_. Besides I do have a sword."

"Yeah, one of those shoddy iron things no-one with a proper budget would use."

"I _don't_ have a proper budget, I make, like, two septims a day. Besides, I'm just using that iron thing until I can get a proper blade . . . even if that's long way off."

"But why a spear? I know they're the easiest to use, but they're also the hardest to master. You could have an axe, or . . ." I cut him off at this point.

"Because I like the range, and lack the strength for other weapons with the same reach. Don't you use the hammer because you like sweaping away your enemy before they get in striking range?"

"Well, I guess if you put it like that . . . "

"Please, all I had to do was bring up "Gertrude".

"Hey, don't disrespect the hammer."

I snorted and took a swipe at him with a model spear. We have that conversation every few days, since he seems to think of a spear as a poor weapon when put against singular enemy's. I've been trying to prove him wrong, but you can't expect to beat someone with almost a decade of experience after only two weeks practice.

It's been almost five weeks since I got to Hans-mill, and I've made some progress with my magic training, and had decided to move on the something more physical. I finally got over my problem with alteration when it occurred to me that the entire world's physics are technically dictated by the higher beings, and that alteration, at its core, is not about changing the world through physics, it's about _changing the laws of physics themselves_. That got me over my alteration problems.

Still can't do any illusion though, lack the focus for the visible ones to look and I don't think chickens are a good test of how well my calm spells work.

I walk over to a nearby tree, picking up a wooden sword. "Let's move on."

* * *

 **POV: Russet**

I limped back towards the inn, sore all over. I've already used restoration magic, but I've found that the phantom pains don't go away that easily. I also made it worse by sitting lotus while practising magic afterwards. But hey, I'll probably be fine after dinner.

I glanced at the horizon. For the amount of light combined with the time of year, I'd say that it's almost nine. My stomach agrees, if the roars are any sign.

I walked into the Inn, noting that Gretta the grey herself was sitting at the front counter. That's rare. The woman is older than the town itself, at ninety five, and seems to prefer being asleep by now. I walked up to the elderly woman.

"Do you have any Stew without potatos?" I asked calmly.

"No, I don't make garbage." she responded in a rough, dismissive tone.

"Then why do you use potatoes?" for reference, I hate any potatoes that hasn't been deep fried.

"Brat." I ignored that.

"Have any leg of goat?"

"Yes."

"Tomatoes?"

"Yes yes, here's the salt, now give me seven gold." I handed the woman her gold as she went off the get my food. Upon receiving my food, I walked over to the table closest to my room (the inn has eight round tables large enough to sit three) and sit down, pondering my situation. Not that I haven't done this before, but I'm need something to take my mind off of my failure to get the second word of become ethereal(yes, second, I can become a ghost now).

Since my arrival, I have made about, on average, two septims a day(not counting my first five days in town before I started working). That means I've made a grand total of sixty septims since I started. That's a full two pounds of metal. When combined with the gold left over from my bag(before you ask, it was in the very bottom in a hidden pocket) I had 76 gold all together.

I want to get out of this town soon. Not that it isn't a nice place and all, but I don't even know what year it is. For all I know Alduin could show up tomorrow. Well, no, Alduin breaks out of his time rift on the seventeenth of last seed, it's the eighteenth of second seed, so even if the year is 4e 201, I'd have roughly three months, but you get the point.

That's not the point though. The point is I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere (Falkrieth) with no idea whats happening. Sure, I've heard no talk of Ulfric, but we are in the middle of nowhere, and I doubt that he would be that big a deal before the start of the ga . . . the Helgen incident. I mean, they hadn't executed Roggvir until after ulfric was captured, and I can't see them holding him for more than a few months, so Ulfics "murder" of High King Torygg probably happened the same year.

But that's assuming that the year is anywhere near the time of the last dragonborn. So far all I have to go off of is that I've overheard conversations about "the empire" and one older man talking about Talos, so all I have is that it's the third era at the earliest.

I sighed. _'I have the find a way to find out what year it is without making anyone question how I don't know that already. But how?'_ maybe I should just wait till I get the city of Falkrieth(why can't it have its own name?). I've been considering walking their with Avins group when the next set of guards get here in four days. I'll have to talk it over with him tomorrow.

As I thought that, I stuffed half of a tomato into my mount, the top frosted with a layer of salt, before tearing a large chunk of of my leg of goat. Theirs a wash basin two steps from me, so I'm not all that concerned with being a neat eater at the moment. I take another bite, and notice that the bell in the top of the tower is going off. "Hmm?"

"BANDIT RAID! THEIR HEADING FOR THE TOWN TREASURY!" the roar of the man in the loft echoes throughout the building, and within seconds, several of the rooms inn the inn burst open as the town guards who normally do early morning shift burst out, already armored, and surge out the door, and the villagers leap up and begin grabbing the weapons off of the display racks around the room to follow them.

My mind catching up with me, I desert my dinner and dash into my room, and grab the sword I got from one of the mill workers, who felt it was only taking up space(Read: he got a shiny new steel one and gave me his garbage), strap it to my side, the pull and the spear I traded the sparks tomb for(I think I got ripped of, but what the heck) out from under the bed, before dashing out the door after them.

I mean, I don't have to help, but if all the town "civilians" are going then I feel obligated to go help. They're nice people!

So, I charged out the door, just behind the last of the townsfolk. _'the town treasury is the big building across from the mill by the river right?'_ in a town with only twenty buildings it's hard to not know where everything is. _'Not that I need to'_ , I think as I absently cast oakskin on myself, feeling the odd sensation of my skin's metamorphosis. Now if only I hadn't taken off the gambeson after I spared with Avin, but hindsight's 20/20.

I heard the sound of combat just ahead of me, and cast a magelight to get a better view. I then re cast oak-skin, just to be sure. I Look around nervously, both hands on my spear. I say a small prayer thanking that the handle is smooth enough to not give me splinters.

I hear a sound off to my side(left) and turn in time to duck under an arrow. Around the curve of the building is a bearded man in thick furs, with a hundting bow. I charge the man, zig zaging as I run to avoid being hit. I reached him in four seconds and take a stab at his chest using my spear, putting as much weight as I dar into it, not wanting to end up unbalanced.

The man takes a step back and suckes in his stomach, barely avoiding the stab. He drops his bow, grabbing a mace off of his side, snapping the leather strap holding it in his haste. He tries to step into my range, so as to keep to close for me to use my spear, but Avin's done that so many times over the last week it's almost boring.

I cut a hasty retreat, making sure to keep the spear point between me and the bandit. The man lunges forward and tries to grab the spear shaft, but I jump back and stab at his arm, forcing him to back up. In response I take a slash at his throat while he's still to off balance from his lunge to attack, but he blocks with his mace.

I suddenly shift my spear in front of me horizontal hold, and charge him. I slam the haft into his chest before he can couter, knocking him off of his feet. I jump up and use my falling momentum to slam my spear into his chest. I rip my spear out with a harsh tug and back away quickly. I stare at him for a few seconds before turning around and heading back after the others. That was desterbingly . . . easy.

I dash towards the sound of fighting, re casting oak-flesh, just to be sure. The fighting now seemed to have lead off into the darkness of the forest beside the village, a trail of bodies leading from the treasury building.

I hestantly followed the sounds into the forest, nervous that I would miss something . . . then realise my light had gone out and re cast that as well.

'How many bandits are their?' I ask myself. Over the last few weeks I've heard stories of bandit groups as large as two hundred, but I somehow doubt that a group that large would be here. Still, I've seen something like twenty five bodies so far. Not that I looked to closly, scared of seeing a face I reconised.

As I get past a tree, I look down to see a body, and to my own mounting horror, recognize it as Denniel. The combination of the small form and the hunting outfit is unmistakable. His bow, a elven bow of the same design seen is skyrim that had been smeared with something to remove the shine, lay on the ground covered in blood.

Dropping my spear, I crounched down on the ground next to the elf and nervously checked for a pulse. I aduibly sighed in relief when I flet the pulse. Thank God, he's alive. I carfully roll him over, only for the elf to cinvulse in pain, in turn making me real back in shock and a little fear. I shudder on horror as I see the reason that his bow had som much blood on it.

His left arm, the one he held the bow with, was only still conencted to his body by a small string of flesh, that was conected at the bottom of his ribcage. Someone had taken of his arm and shoulder in one swing. Blood was rapidly dripping from the dirt covered gap, most likely only held back by how it was pressed into the ground. Seeing all that blood, I panicked slightly, before a more logical part of my mind screamed at me stop as the elf was dying and I was hyperventilating.

I got my breathing under control, and prepared to cast a spell, before pausing. _'Should I burn it closed or try to heal it? If I just heal it he may have an infection, but cauterization also increses the risk, should I freeze it? . . . Dear God, let this work.'_ Deciding that the best option was to just try and rap the wound, I carefully coated the bleading gap in the elf body in a layer of ice, before imediatly melting it with the fire, hoping that would clean the wound.

Taking off my tunic, I take out the sword and tear at it. Once I had it in a shape I hoped would hold when I wrapped it around the wound. I carefully use the sword to cut off the last flap of skin holding the elf's arm onto his body. Afterwards, I cut several strips from my shirt, and set to work

The elf shuddered in pain, blinking blearinly and seemingly trying to pull himself up even as I began to wrap the wound. He moaned as I pulled a large square of my shirt over the lost area, and began to tie said square on with the strips.

I felt Denniel's body shift, and noticed how he inhaled sharply, before begining to hypervientilate. I looked up, and saw that he was looking at his left arm laying on the ground a few feet from him. Not knowing If I should say anything, I remained silent and finished tying the wound closed. _'I need to get medical lessons . . . '_

The wood elf began to struggle slighty, seemingly weak. I grabbed him by the neck and right arm and held him steady, looking him in the eye until he calmed down slightly, and said in a firm, no nonesense tone of voice, "Breath." after he finally calmed down, I tenatively began to send short burst's of healing energy into the wound, nervous I may be doing damage but driven by the stressful need to do _something_.

Suddenly Denniel begins to try to move, make a gasping sound like he was having trouble speaking . . .

* * *

POV: 3D Person

Russet looked up and noticed that his wounded friend was staring over his shoulder, and noticing a sound behind him, lept to his feet while casting oak-flesh with one hand. The choice to cast the spell imediatly saved his life, as a iron greatsword slammed into his side a second latter, cutting deep into his ribs and carrying him of his feet.

He hit the ground rolling, and came to a stop sove ten feet from his original spot, clutching his side and weezing. He looked up to see a man wearing _full steel plate armor_ directly above him, weapon raised overhead for a chop.

Thinking fast, the young man raised the hand not clutching his left side to the probably-a-bandits face, blasting a fire spell. The volatile explosion that emerged imediatly on his slopy attempt stagering the man back and blinding him slightly, if the way he covered his eyes for a second afterwards was any indication.

Taking advantage of his asailants distraction, Russet began to imediatly bombard his side with healing magic, trying to close the wound. After only two seconds the bandit was up again, forcing Russet to break the stream of golden energy, shifting to a stream of frost right into the bandits face, trying to seal the eye holes of the helmet, but the bandit blocked with his left arm, which gained a heavy looking layer of icy spikes . . . meaning he was no longer holding his sword with both hands.

Launching a stream of lightning at the bandits arm with one hand, he took a degree of satisfaction with the way the man dropped his sword and began clutching his wrinst, and shot another shot of frost into his face, forcing the bandit to block the frost with his still numb right arm, as he, rather than trying to retreve his sword, charged russet and appeared to want to take off his head barehanded.

Russet stagered back as a steel coated cloaked fist wizzed by his head, missing by mear inches. In resonse, he formed another explosion, this one setting portions of the forest around him on fire even as it drove back the bandit. Backing back constantly, the young mage began to try to hit the bandit with sparks, even as the armored mand advanced constantly through the stream, repeating the phrase "Dear God" over and over like a mantera.

The bandit reached Russet and punched him in the jaw so hard that he hit the ground and rolled, coming up dazed, jaw at an off angle. However, before the bandit could go further, a trio of town guards emerged from the forest, and swarmed the man, who went down ina flury of war hammers and axes. The dazed Canadian stared at the sceane with a dazed expression, slured out "Dank ou od." and promptly passed out.

* * *

 **AN: 3:14 AM January 25th, 2019. Well, this took longer than I expected. The "in between" chapters I don't really have any plan for are always the hardest.**

 **Well, anyway, the pole is closed as of . . . well, when the chapter is published in a few minutes, so heres the results.**

 **Option D. 5 Votes.**

 **Option B. 4 Votes.**

 **Option C. 4 Votes.**

 **Option A. 3 Votes.**

 **Honestly, I'm exited for this. I mean, I figured option D would win since the second day after the first chapter, so I've put the most thought into it, so . . . yeah. I'll have a new pole up next time I have a major dicisipn to make, like say, the nerevarine's race and gender . . . and playstyle, can't forget that. Well, until next time!**

 **PS, please point out any spelling mistakes I made, my spell-check is on the fritz.(Did I spell fritz right?)**


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